Luis reached for his uncle's hands. He squeezed them and said, “I never knew you knew about this so soon. I always thought you were diagnosed in the 90's.”
The uncle sent him a terrified glance. “What are you talking about? How could you know anything about me?”
“I have to tell you something, Uncle Frank,” Luis said. “I don't know Chip. I didn't come from San Francisco. You're not going to believe me at first. But I have to tell you anyway. I don't have anyone else to tell.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Why is it so cold now?” Luis asked. He was about to tell his uncle the truth about who he was, and then the wind kicked up, the trees in front of the house began to sway, and the temperature dropped at least fifty degrees in a matter of minutes. Luis looked up at the sky and said, “This is ridiculous. This is Tennessee in June. It's supposed to be hot. Is the whole world turning sideways?”
Luis's uncle smiled and stood up from the rocking chair. “We'd better go inside and I'll build a nice warm fire. There's an unusual, once-in-a-lifetime cold front moving down from Alaska tonight. They say it's been on its way all day and it's strong.”
“From Alaska? This makes no sense. Cold fronts come down from Canada, not Alaska.”
His uncle shrugged. “I said it was unusual.”
A few minutes later, while the logs in the fireplace crackled and the living room lit up with a warm amber glow, Luis gazed through the front window with wide eyes. He was sitting on the same window seat he used to sit on when he was a child and he visited his uncle's farm, with his elbow resting on the windowsill and his chin in his palm. “I can't believe it's snowing out. This is insane.”
Uncle Frank sat quietly in a beige wing chair and with his legs crossed and his hands folded on his lap. “They said it's going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
Luis rolled his eyes and said, “I've had enough of those unusual experiences lately to last me a lifetime.” Then he stood up and went to the beige wing chair on the other side of the fireplace and sat down.
“I'm feeling better now,” the uncle said. “I like the winter and the snow more than I like the hot buggy summers. I think everything is going to be okay.”
Luis smiled. “I remember you always said that about winter.”
“You remember?” He sent Luis a glance and tipped his head sideways. “I'm not sure I understand.”
Luis leaned forward and looked into his uncle's eyes. He warned his uncle that what he was about to say would be outrageous; he said it might even sound crazy. But his uncle sat there smiling and offering him reassuring nods. He promised Luis he wouldn't throw him out or call the police. So Luis took a deep breath, exhaled, and told his uncle everything, from Jase's twenty-five year reunion to waking up in 1986 as a full grown man. And while Luis spoke, the uncle didn't blink or frown once; not a hint of judgment could be seen in his eyes. By the time Luis was finished talking, he was out of breath and completely exhausted.
“That's an interesting story,” the uncle said.
“But you don't believe me.”
“The only thing that matters is what you believe.”
Luis frowned. “You must think I'm crazy. I'm claiming to be your grown nephew who has someone managed to find his way back to 1986, on a cold snowy night in June, from the year 2011. Even I don't believe what I'm saying. I'm surprised you're still sitting there with such a calm expression.”
“I've learned not to question everything that happens in life,” the uncle said. He lifted a thick book from a small pie crust table beside the wing chair. “I'm reading a book about a man who claims he's able to see different frequencies and talk to the dead. He helps a lot of people get through rough times. If that's possible, anything is possible.”
“Then you believe me, Uncle Frank.” Luis stood up, crossed to the other side of the fireplace, and gave his uncle a hug.
His uncle patted his back and said, “Like I said, it doesn't matter what I believe, kid. The only thing that matters is what you believe. We're all traveling through time with our own concept of reality and what's authentic, at our own individual pace. Some believe in infinite, spiritual, creative wisdom, and others believe in frequencies and spiritual connections that keep us all bonded ... even when we aren't aware of it. If you say you're my grown nephew who has come back here from the future, who am I to doubt you?”
Luis hugged him again. “You were always my favorite relative. I knew you'd understand. I knew you'd believe me.”
Luis's uncle stood up and covered the open fireplace with a screen. Then he put his palm on the small of Luis's back and said, “Let's take a ride. There's someone I'd like you to meet. You can borrow one of my jackets. I'm sure it's freezing out by now.”
“Where are we going?”
“You'll see,” Uncle Frank said. “I think you'll be surprised and I think it might help you find some of the answers you've been searching for.”
Although this was getting way too unusual for Luis's taste, he put on his uncle's jacket and followed him out to the truck. As they drove through the snowy back roads of rural Tennessee, the uncle's old pick up truck slipped and slid so many times Luis was afraid they'd both wind up in a ditch and freeze to death. But that thought almost made Luis laugh. When Luis realized he wasn't even sure he was alive anymore, he stopped worrying and sank back into his seat with his arms folded across his chest. For all Luis knew, he could have been dead. Maybe he'd choked to death on a piece of crab meat at the reunion.
They drove for about twenty minutes, until they reached a small house on the edge of town. It looked exactly like one of the stone cottages at the end of Luis's driveway at what would one day be Luis's house in the country, Cider Mill Farm. Even the white picket fence that surrounded the cottage looked identical to the fence in front of the stone cottage at Cider Mill Farm. A chill ran up Luis's spine and he felt like asking his uncle to turn around and go back to the farm.
Luis's uncle parked up front, next to a large red l986 Cadillac, and said, “I think you'll enjoy this very much. I have a good friend who lives here and he's very interested in spiritual guides and frequencies. He has a crystal ball and he uses tarot cards. And he's a very nice man, too.”
Luis opened his door and said, “If you say so. I trust your judgment, Uncle Frank.” Luis knew his uncle would never steer him in the wrong direction.
The snow was about four inches deep by then. They plodded up a narrow path to the front door of the cottage and the uncle pulled a string that was connected to a large brass bell next to the front door. The bell rang out five times, and then the front door opened and a man with soft white hair greeted them with a huge, hearty smile and bright red cheeks.